The six male figures are supposedly the half-dozen famous 'lovers' of the European tradition; Achilles, Tristan, Lancelot, Samson, Paris and Troilus, not really the first candidates that spring to mind when I'm compiling my own historical to do list. Paris the twink caught my eye because he's all like 'hi girlfriend', which, as the more worldly amongst us know, doesn't necessarily disqualify him. Achilles and Troilus seem particularly cuntstruck but then the former has a lot of misogynist miles to make up for and the latter was pretty much born with that expression, by all accounts. And then we have Venus, ascendant, with her velvety black wings and attendant cupids. Those man-taming rays of incandescent awesomeness pouring from her ladyplace is the kind of superpower I'd sign up for tomorrow. That the artist placed her in a medieval millefleurs field of the type usually containing some sort of horn'd equine while all this ador(horny mesmerism)ation was going on always makes me smile. As do those infernal red cupids, their raptorial feet and smug expressions prompting me to think Mr A di Michele had felt those fucking arrows a few times himself.
My first thought on seeing this image was 'err... is this a real thing?'. I love so much that it is.